"Oooooh..." she cooed.I got wetter. And less nervous. Did she know I could hear her? And could she hear me? I didn't care anymore. I started up a...ain, slowly, by tapping my clit with my index finger while my middle and ring finger were still deep inside. I could her her wetness rhythmically pulsing next to me. I tried to time my strokes with hers, beckoning a "come here" motion inside of me, as if I was inviting something mysterious to come out of me. Something...forbidden...She went. He rubbed his pecs. He pinched and twisted his nipples. He tugged them moaning and groaning. Dad’s fingers dug into his washboard abs pinching each of his ripples before he stuck the tips of his fingers into his wet tight denims. “Fuck yeah,” he moaned with one or two fingertips caressing the head of his cock stuck to his hip.Dad extracted his fingers. He unbuckled his belt before removing it. He tossed it over his shoulder. I didn’t look to see where it landed because my father undid a brass. More

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